


Stake Out

by trr_rr



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Detectives, F/M, M/M, Male Solo, Masturbation, Porn Magazines, Stakeout, Unrequited Lust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-12 21:52:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18019139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trr_rr/pseuds/trr_rr
Summary: When Roach was alone, he was bored.





	Stake Out

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all. I have been thinking hard about writing a soft noir type Seaborne & Roach fic with crimes and a tasty slow burn etc. Lemme know what you'd like to see in that regard. Had fun writing this little pwp and find poor dumb Roach so much fun to write! :3c
> 
> Song recommendation for this one shot: Angelo Badalamenti - Dance Of The Dream Man (Instrumental)

 

It was not often that Roach was left to his own devices on the clock. It filled him with purpose and determination. It was vital that he and his partner discover who or what was tipping over Mrs Maria's garbage cans in the middle of the night. The poor woman had paid them both to keep watch and find the culprit, not an unusual case but a solid job and well paid.

 

Seaborne had trusted Roach to take the night shifts. The car was parked on the opposite side of the road from Mrs Maria's house and Roach had used Seaborne's tiny binoculars to keep watch for signs of disturbance.

 

Roach did wonder why he had been given the night shift but he rarely questioned Seaborne's judgement. It was pleasant to be in the car by himself. No need to make small talk or buy two coffees or double the price of lunch.

 

Roach kept himself occupied and vigilant with the radio on low. He had to keep the lights and the engine off to stay inconspicuous.

 

The digital dashboard clock read twenty two fifty eight when Roach's concentration got away from him.There was no one around. The cul-de-sac was empty. The night breeze blew through the trees and stars. Roach was alone. In a dark car, alone. At night.

 

His leg bobbed. He unscrewed his flask and warm coffee slipped down his throat. The blue-ish leather stuck to his ass and squeaked against his jeans when he let himself sink lower into the bucket of the seat.

 

He caught himself in the rear view mirror. Sunglasses at night were an odd choice but the more that could be done to obscure his face, the better.

 

His fingers tapped on the flask. Seaborne had given him that flask as a birthday present a few years back. He put it in the driver side drink holder a let out a long breath.

 

He had become bored.

 

When Roach was alone, he was bored.

 

He knew a surefire way to pass the time.

 

He reached over to the passenger side and pushed in the glove box panel. The door fell open and inside were various papers, a pair of leather gloves, empty gum wrappers and a few folded highway maps. Then, if one shuffled one's hand beneath the debris, a rolled up old magazine.

 

Roach smiled lifted the publication from the glove box and shut it again with one hand. His eyes darted about over-top of his shades and he hunkered down even lower in his seat as he unfurled the pages.

 

The magazine was old, or perhaps well used. The title, _The Sex Files,_ emblazoned on the front cover in silver foil. A gorgeous woman with short cropped red hair and a tall man in a long black coat stood holding flashlights on the cover page. The magazine promised “XXX parody in full colour glossy full frontal uncensored science fiction madness!” and some “Interviews with the stars”.

 

Roach had hoped to find the video tape version of the issue but failed. The magazine had always been enough for him. He had been obsessed with the real TV show from the beginning. It did not help that the main stars were gorgeous fantastic actors. They were the reason Roach took up detective work. That and Jodie Foster's Clarice Starling but that was by the wayside.

 

Now he had his nose deep in his favorite magazine. Not his first time indulging in the company vehicle. There was something about the car that made him horny. Seaborne could never know.

 

Page six got him started. He shifted when his eyes fell on the female lead bent over her desk with her skirt pulled up over her hips to show how wet she had become through her panties. The dude had his hands on her hips and his nice looking dick rubbed against her ass through her underwear.

 

They never did any detective work in the magazine. Roach did not mind one bit.

 

On the next page, there was a speech bubble:

 

“Oh, Fox, not at work! Your dick feels so good, baby!”

 

The woman, who's red wig was now slanted, had her blouse unbuttoned, her skirt around her ankles and her bra pulled down so that her pale breasts and dark unshaven pussy were out in the open. The dude in the long coat had his dick out and he teased it against her sweet little pussy.

 

Roach's eyes took in the scene and he wet his lips as he followed the story. He knew it by heart by then but it still got him hard and ready in his jeans. He held the mag close to his face with one hand and gripped himself through his pants with the other.

 

He closed his eyes and imagined himself there. The dude detective rubbed his fingers over the woman's thighs and he hoisted one of her pretty legs over his hip. Roach saw it very clear in his mind. He could see her look up at the man and then over to himself sat so close in an office chair.

 

Then he looked harder and watched the man tease the head of his dick against her clit. His tease drove her and Roach crazy. Why would he not just put it in? It looked real good when he stroked himself.

 

Back in the car he breathed hard through his nose. He felt the heat in his face and looked around outside the car again. Nothing. No one.

 

He flipped the pages and the story developed into close ups on the woman's pussy being fully penetrated. Roach never was interested in that stuff. He wanted to see them bounce around and touch and kiss. He skipped ahead once more and found a full spread. The woman on her knees, fully dressed again. She held the man's wet dick in her hand. The dude's big hand was on the back of her head.

 

Roach felt his cock twitch.

 

He closed his eyes and he was there with them again, this time on his knees as he watched her suck this dude off. He could see that she really loved doing it. The dude liked it too but her enjoyment of the act was what got him going. The dude's cock looked nice, he could admit that. The woman's short hair, a bob, looked messy in a way that really turned Roach on.

 

He watched her hand come up to tuck a stray curl behind her ear as she licked and moaned and her hair was strangely darker than it looked in the magazine. And then Roach saw the hand that had tucked in the hair was large and strong. And he watched Seaborne groan and his eyebrows furl and his eyes flutter shut as he sucked off the dude from the magazine. His lips were pink and Roach's cock lurched at the sight and sound of his partner's adoring blowjob.

 

Roach let the magazine lay in his lap. He unbuttoned his jeans and dug his hand into his pants. He gripped his cock and squeezed.

 

Seaborne was so strict with him. Everything had to be by the book. Roach had forgiven himself months ago for these fantasies. They took a while to get going but once he got there, Roach had a wonderful imagination.

 

He shut his eyes and there was Seaborne, sat on the hood of their car in his button up shirt and tie, his jacket. Fuck. His tight pants and his serious expression.

 

Roach jerked off to men fucking women. Roach fucked women. With Seaborne in his mind, Roach only wanted to give it up. Even the idea of a kiss with Seaborne had Roach's cock drool and ache. He thought about how it would feel for their lips to touch, their tongues to play. Roach was a big guy but he adored when any of his past girlfriends held him down and called him names. A girl had on one occasion teased him till he cried. That was the best sexual experience of his life so far.

 

Easy then to blame his stupid cross wired brain on his attraction to his partner. Being mocked was not flirtatious. Especially where Seaborne was concerned, he just told Roach what was what and had no time to support false leads or faulty research.

 

Seaborne was not into dudes but Roach could dream.

 

He could have Seaborne bend him over the hood of the car, pull his jeans down to see how hard and damp he got through his boxers. Tease his nice thick cock against the outside of his underwear. Then he could pull up his shirt so Seaborne had a good view of his chest while they rubbed their junk together.

 

Did Seaborne own handcuffs? Was he a rough lover?

 

The image of himself bound with his arms above his head stretched out in the trunk of the car, duct tape across his mouth, wrists sore with the unforgiving clinch of handcuffs really did something for him. Being kidnapped? His balls tightened, he reached down to cradle them in his palm. His fist pumped slow and steady up the length and back down, fuck, he wanted Seaborne's hands all over his body.

 

He looked so gosh darn cute, that was the problem. Seaborne's facial hair, his blue eyes, his soft lips. Any guy would entertain the idea of getting off with a dude like that. Orientation be damned, Seaborne was hot. And his attitude. He was a stubborn ass with clever eyes and a wry mouth and all Roach wanted to do was suck on his cock.

 

Roach had never sucked a guy off in his life. Never even touched another dude's thing, just thought about it in the abstract way every dude thinks about sucking dicks every so often.

 

But Roach would happily get on his knees, have Seaborne lean back against the car door and slurp up his dick with everything he had. And he would make it look good too. Look up at Seaborne with his eyes all big and sweet. Beg for some direction. Get messy and lightheaded.

 

That's how he did it with girls, anyway. When he ate pussy, Roach _ate pussy._ Nothing made him hotter than when he watched his girl shake and shudder from what he did with his mouth. He licked and sucked, nipped with his teeth and worked his face between a girl's legs like a man starved. Loved to feel fingernails rake in his hair and thighs come up around his head.

 

He could do so much for Seaborne. He wanted to try it.

 

What could he possibly say to bring it up though? Roach had spoken to Seaborne about sex before. Mostly he played it off as a brag about his exploits like men always did but he had wanted to gauge Seaborne's preference or something. What he really wanted was to talk Seaborne into a lust fueled rampage and get himself fucked nice and deep by the only man Roach had ever had the hots for.

 

The idea that he might be turned down had made his cock soften off. He needed something more.

 

He picked up the magazine, nothing on the pages excited him. He opened the glove box to tuck it away and there, on top of the papers, were a pair of leather gloves.

 

Roach questioned himself. Was he depraved enough, desperate enough, disgusting enough?

 

The glove box door was clicked shut and the pair of black leather gloves was in one of Roach's hands.

 

These were Seaborne's gloves. Smaller than a pair Roach would wear, smooth dark leather and soft inside. God, Seaborne had nice hands. So clean and kept neat.

 

Roach held them up to his nose and a heady throb ran all through him. He rested his head against the car window and ripped his hand over his cock. He had gone rock hard at the scent of Seaborne's skin, the hand lotion he used, the lingered hint of cologne.

 

Roach needed to cum.

 

His spine twitched forward and he cursed to himself, curled around the hand in his pants. He dropped the gloves and yanked his jean's down to catch whatever mess he made. His cock pulsed and a few healthy spurts of cum gushed from the end down his length and into his hand. A bit got away from him and squirted up at his face. He loved to get messy but this was not his car. He was just happy that he had forgotten to take his shades off.

 

Lazy and sated he pushed open the glove box and used some of the papers in there to clean his hand off. He scrunched the soggy sheets and shoved them into his jacket pocket. He could dispose of them in the morning when Seaborne came to switch shifts.

 

Seaborne. Dang.

 

Roach let his head knock against the car window. The digital dashboard clock read twenty three fifteen. He sighed and his breath fogged against the night cold glass.

 

He reached for the magazine again to flip through the pages. His cock splayed out over his belly. He flipped ahead to the second half of the issue. The female star with her wig set straight again is abducted by aliens. She's taken up into the mother-ship and the alien men, who's genitals look exactly like the genitals of men on Earth, have their scientific way with her.

 

A quick check on the garbage cans in Mrs Maria's drive way confirm that there has been no tampering while Roach had been distracted. He brought the magazine up, one hand on his dick and continued to read.

 

What the hell else was he supposed to do all night?

 

 

 


End file.
